Short Story Collection
by Savior of the Truth
Summary: This is a collection of short stories. I'm gonna update if inspiration strikes again Have Fun!
1. Kingley's Report

_Well, long time no read... I'm back with a few not-related stories... most of them written after a sudden inspiration... _

_Discl.: Anyway, seeing as Umbridge has been fed to a herd of centaurs, I feel free enough to claim the rights of Harry Potter and Remus, Tonks and Kingsley, Moody, Snape OH! and of course the very serious Sirius Black._

_No, kidding; don't own, don't sue._

* * *

**Kingsley's Report**

She'd been sitting in the same position all evening. Very still.

'Somebody ought to give me credit', she thought, because it was not at all like her to be so still. Especially not when she needed the bathroom.

She was aware of everybody staring at her. Because she was new. Because she was so young. Because she looked all but subtle in her ragged jeans and violently rainbow-colored t-shirt. Because she had caused one hell of a noise upstairs only shortly after her arrival.

She didn't know it yet, but the people in this old, dusty house would soon grow accustomed to the thundering crash resulting from the falling umbrella stand.

Pity it hadn't shattered, because she was likely to get her foot caught in the thing more times in the future. Then again, it wouldn't have been a proper start to destroy family treasures by entering a house for the first time. Though, somebody just might have put it back together, anyway.

But could the staring people know she needed the bathroom?

She reached up, absentmindedly, and twirled a lock of bright pink hair around her index finger.

Her colleague, Kingsley, was currently speaking with his deep, calming voice, bringing her to the edge of sleep. Much needed sleep. She didn't even want to think about how long it had been that she had slept for more than 3 hours.

Noticing the drooping of his cousin's eyelids, the black haired man elbowed her in the side.

She winced and straightened up again. Sirius grinned at her.

Finally one member of his family who seemed normal.

'Mentally normal', he corrected his own thoughts after throwing a glance at her.

To Sirius' other side sat Remus, his usual non-distractable self. He listened carefully to the boring tirade that came out of Kingsley Shacklebolt's mouth.

'No offense here', Sirius thought quickly, as if Kingsley was able to hear his thoughts. He owed Kingsley. It was the dark, tall wizard who constantly led the ministry of magic on false trails in their headhunt of Sirius Black.

Moony to his right seemed oblivious to the monotony of Kingsley's report. He was still listening intently. Or he had fallen asleep with his eyes open.

Sirius leaned forward slightly, Remus' gaze was locked on Kingsley. No way a person could be so still! Sirius grinned and then froze. Remus turned his head and looked at Sirius skeptically.

"What?", the werewolf mouthed.

It was like finding the needle in the haystack!

So Remus had not at all been paying attention to Kingsley! Sirius' eyes had wandered over Kingsley's shoulder to the shiny chrome toaster. Wondering briefly who had brought it in the first place - who needed a toaster if he had a wand? - he adjusted his eyes to the dimness and recognized a ruffled pink spot reflecting in the kitchen tool.

Sirius' grin turned incredibly smug. Remus wondered warily what in the name of Merlin's pants his buddy was up to now.

'Well', Remus thought, 'whatever makes his day can't be THAT bad.' He thought wrong.

One seat farther down the aisle Remus saw just a bit of Tonks' bright pink hair, mostly blocked from his view by Sirius' shaggy head.

Maybe she could convince him of a proper haircut later...

From the front - or back, depending on how looked - of the room Remus heard paper shuffling.

'Fabulous,' he thought, 'thanks Sirius. Now I've missed the last third of Kingsley's report.'

Oh well, he might as well ask Kingsley for a rehearsal after the meeting. Surely Kingsley understood the difficulty to listen properly for about - he glanced at his watch and his breath caught - five hours? A quick glance toward the old dusty clock above the kitchen door.

Five hours. Wow.

She'd done it. She'd sat still for almost five hours. Without embarrassing herself. Whoot! Well, she'd sat so still in fact, that she'd almost fallen asleep. Almost.

'Brilliant!' she thought, beaming. 'Bathroom, I'm coming!'

'What the hell is she smiling about like that?' Sirius wondered silently, with a sidelong glance at Tonks. Had she caught Remus staring at her? Did she like it?

'Sirius seems to have gone nuts...' Remus thought.

'This can't be any longer, can it?' Tonks thought.

'Damm damm da-damm, damm damm da-damm!' Sirius thought.

**End.**


	2. Snape's Report

**Snape's Report**

Tonks felt like being back to school. A way too vivid déjà vû of her potions classes. Only Snape wasn't talking about potions up front, but instead ranting about something different. Anyway, Tonks could simply not bring herself to listen to him. His cold snarl was better ignored.

She sighed. The climate didn't help. It was the middle of July, it was hot outside, clammy and sticky inside Grimmauld's crowded kitchen.

Sirius had, out of respect for Snape or rather lack thereof, propped his feet up on the seat of the chair in front of him. He now lounged across two seats, his hands folded behind his head, his eyes closed. Displaying maturity in the way a three year old would find appalling.

Tonks wished she had the guts to do the same. But Snape would probably just take it out on her. Or Remus. And though she might, he definitely didn't deserve this.

A glance to her side showed her that Remus - though he looked like he deserved a few weeks of decent sleep - was alert as usual towards what was being said.

Well, Tonks thought, I can ask Remus if Snape said anything vitally important. Paying attention to Remus would be lots easier.

Suddenly, Tonks' thoughts were interrupted by a loud bang! and everybody in the kitchen jumped from their stupors.

Tonks looked to her side and then snickered. The chair supporting Sirius' butt had slid backwards and finally away under him. Sirius himself had landed on the stony floor and his feet had thrown over the chair his feet had been propped on.

Most of the other members stared at him, either annoyed by his antics or annoyed that he'd woken them up. Tonks grinned at him from above and Sirius grinned back cheekily. When Tonks looked up again, she saw that Remus, who sat a few seats away from them, watched Sirius almost impassively.

Almost, because Tonks saw - even through the dim light in the room - Remus' lips twitch.

She grinned even more. But then her gaze swept to Snape in the front. Bad idea. Her grin evaporated. She trembled. How in hell did he manage to look so... so... evil?

She knew she was supposed to trust him. Trust him on Dumbledores word. But she just couldn't. The way he looked at her cousin - as if he desperately wished he could find an excuse to murder Sirius right on the spot.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Remus' right hand emerging from his pocket with his wand. The tension was almost unbearable. Tonks watched Snape, waiting, like Remus, for any sign of attack.

And then Snapes eyes landed on her. She held her breath. His gaze became even colder.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Remus' hand tighten around his wand.

Molly Weasley cleared her throat disapprovingly.

The tension vanished, even Snape just blinked and went back to his notes.

Remus' hand relaxed.

**End.**


	3. Can I Give You A Kiss?

**Can I Give You A Kiss**

It was an abnormally cold night in London. December the 31st. Eleven forty pm.

One lonely Auror was standing just so inside the narrow alley that she was entirely hidden by shadows. Her warm breath came out in white clouds, but they dissolved fast.

Nymphadora Tonks glanced at her watch and hugged her arms around herself.

She had been standing on this spot for one hour and forty minutes. Keeping an eye open for a Death Eater, who was supposed to start a massacre right in the open space accross from her. There was a park, where groups of Muggles prepared themselves for welcoming the new year. Due to the freezing temperature the number of people was limited to maybe five dozen.

The thing was: not one Order member believed that there would be an attack. It had only been a vague information, passed on from Rosmerta in Hogsmeade to Dumbledore through ten other people. Apart from that, it was highly unlikely that Voldemort or his followers had any interest in murdering a bunch of Muggles out there in the suburbs. Lately their strategy had been to murder and torture in the unknown. Therefore they had sent Tonks, who - of course - had accepted her task with enthusiasm.

'Bugger, I'm freezing,' she thought and started hopping from one foot to the other.

She hadn't expected time to stretch like it did, because of what she hadn't bothered to bring a bottle of hot chocolate or tea.

Her eyes swept the place she faced. Nothing at all out of the ordinary. Oh, how much she'd prefer Grimmauld Place right now. She imagined sitting in the library with Sirius and Remus, who were really entertaining company, the fireplace burning merrily. They'd drink and play cards until the old clock in the corner rang twelve times and maybe, maybe she would have gotten a New Year's kiss from Remus.

She sighed. Daydreaming didn't help, especially when she had to keep her eyes alert to anything out of the ordinary, as unlikely as that might seem.

A glance at her watch. Ten minutes till midnight. If she were to set off now, she'd still make it to Grimmauld Place.

Tonks shook her head, her normally vibrant pink hair today a dark brown, so as not to draw any attention. She looked at her hands. The tips of her frozen fingers were just peeking out of the gloves.

Accross the street she saw a man with a small wagon walking towards the gathering of people. There was a Starbucks sign on the roof of the vehicle. How she wished she could go over and get herself a hot steaming chocolate. But she wasn't allowed to show herself, apart from any emergency situation.

Her freezing her limbs off wouldn't classify, she knew. Although she was sure Dumbledore wouldn't sack her for getting something to warm herself.

Maybe she'd catch Remus awake still, when she got back to Headquarters. He would surely be nice enough to supply her with some tea or so.

Thinking of Remus made her a tad warmer. She smiled to herself absently while scanning the Muggles in the park for anyone or anything she hadn't seen yet.

Nothing.

Watch. One minute to twelve.

A halfloud crack at the other end of the alley made Tonks jump. She tensed and swirled around and her wand was out in a flash, pointed directly towards the dark figure opposite her.

Then she saw something silver and bright slowly glide towards her. She could just make out the outline of an eagle through the glow.

"Don't fire, Nymphadora, it's just me." the patronus spoke. She didn't even need the voice to know exactly who it was.

Only one person just couldn't be convinced to not call her Nymphadora. She felt a sigh of utter relief go through her whole body, and before she had even lowered her wand enough to not do any harm, Remus was very close before her and stared into her eyes dreamily.

Tonks' breath caught. "What are you doing here?" she choked out.

"I came to get you." Remus answered quietly. He stepped even closer and Tonks could feel his warmth.

Furthermore she could feel a great bunch of butterflies awaken inside her.

"Why didn't you just send a patronus?" She was awed by herself for thinking so clearly, despite the fact that she could smell Remus and even almost feel him.

"It woud have been too late," he whispered. In the background noise she was not aware of the Muggles counting from ten backwards.

"Too late for what?" she whispered, adopting his volume of voice. Remus smirked and put one hand on her waist, the other settling on the back of her neck.

Tonks' heart leapt. She held her breath.

"For this."

Amidst the cheers of the Muggles in the park, Remus bent down towards her and very gently pressed his lips to hers.

After maybe two seconds, Tonks gathered her senses and moved her head to the side, consequently deepening the kiss. Remus pulled her even tighter towards him in response.

He ran his tongue over her lips, making her part them in return. Tonks' heart hammered in her chest, her wildest dreams coming true. Well, maybe not her wildest. But a good one was it, no question.

All too soon, he pulled away from her, watching her uncertainly. Of course, it was not his routine to be so bold. But she rather liked it this way.

And so she smiled reassuringly.

"Happy New Year, Nymphadora..." he all but breathed in her ear, sending goosbumps up and down her body.

"Don't-" she started and then thought better of it. "Happy New Year, Remus."

They regarded each other for several moments until something seemed to snap inside his head.

"Let's get back to Sirius, I hexed the clock five minutes backwards, and told him I'd be back before midnight."

Remus let go of her and offered his hand, looking back at her hopefully.

Tonks just placed a wide smile on her face and took his wonderfully warm hand.

They walked hand in hand to the end of the alley where they disappeared with a crack.

**End.**


	4. The Worst Possible Scenario

**The Worst Possible Scenario**

He was running.

He was running for his life.

Not even only for his own, but for hers in the first place.

3 Minutes before…

He and Sirius were sitting in the library, bored out of their minds. The day had been duty-free in his case and uneventful in both their cases. Tonks had just left for her apartment, after paying a brief visit in between shifts at he Ministry.

She had looked tired, even paler than usual and he had thought she'd looked like he felt.

So their sat in library, unenthusiastically flipping through books and though not seeing anything.

And then a shout ripped them from their stupors.

"Sirius! Sirius!"

They both looked up simultaneously, horror-stricken and white-faced.

Scrambling to their feet they raced up the stairs and burst into the room where Harry and Ron had slept only a few weeks ago.

The picture frame on the ugly wall featured a grey bearded and black-and-green robed wizard.

"Is Nymphadora Tonks here?" Phineas Nigellus Black asked hurriedly.

Their hearts sank.

"No." Sirius gasped.

"Bring her back! Severus's just been told about an attack-"

Remus Lupin never heard the end of the sentence. He already dashed down the stairs and out of the front door of #12, Grimmauld Place. He almost fell down the steps and apparated hurriedly around the corner from where she lived. He started running, praying to Merlin that she had not yet reached her apartment.

The sun was just setting and Remus' only thought was 'Don't let her die.'.

He was ery much out of breath but he kept on running. Halfway to Tonks' apartment, he pulled out his wand and sent his patronus to find her.

It was faster.

So when he turned into the street where Tonks' apartment was, he saw the Dark Mark hovering above her building, which had somehow, apparently, been blown apart.

He would never be able to find words to describe the feeling of dread that possessed him in this instant.

He was too late.

He heard faint screams and explosions. He saw his patronus, floating between friend and foe and trying to protect her.

'Nymphadora…'

The young Auror stood amidst the poor remains of her home, wand raised high.

Remus started breathing again. His heart resumed beating.

She was alive.

It was two against one, and Tonks was losing.

Remus could see her left arm dangling limply at her side.

He raised his own wand from where he stood a good two hundred meters away, and shot two well aimed _Stupors _at the Death Eaters.

Tonks Disapparated only to appear one second later at Remus' side, breathindg heavily and bleeding from her shoulder.

She reached out for him but tripped on her own shoelace, falling right into Remus' arms.

He quickly rehearsed the three golden rules of Apparition and they were gone, leaving two stunned Death Eaters behind.

He didn't let go of her even when they were safely back at headquarters…

**End.**


	5. As Long As There's Hope

**As Long As There's Hope**

It was a far from silent night.

There were festivities everywhere, people celebrating.

In a little suburb, just outside London, eight-year-old Nymphadora Tonks didn't quite understand the meaning yet. What she knew was that every witch and wizard in Britain had a reason to be happy tonight. Her parents themselves had been invited by neighbours to celebrate.

Nymphadora had wandered away from the feast, being the youngest there and therefore quite bored.

It was a mild evening, at least for the beginning of November and the little girl – quite a bit too short for her age yet – was strolling towards the old playground, constantly pulling at the sleeve of her sweatshirt, which was a number too big for her. Her other hand was buried deep in the pocket of her jeans and her trainers kept kicking an empty coke bin ahead of her.

She reached the playground and went straight to the swings, which she liked best. The playground was deserted, it seemed even the kids were celebrating with their families.

Nymphadora swung back and forth, higher each time, her two long, bubblegum pink plaits swooshing around her head.

The sun was just vanishing behind the nearest tree tops and everything was bathed in soft gold and orange colours.

And then Nymphadora noticed the gold-brown shimmering spot out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head to get a better look and saw that a person sat in the shadows of the trees on the right side of the playground.

Nymphadora knew there was an old rusty bench there.

Curious as she was, the girl jumped off the swing, landing gracefully in the soft grass beneath.

She screwes up her eyes to make out the posture. The person seemed to be male. He was lean and sat bent over, with his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees.

His shoulders were shaking.

The pink-haired girl took two steps towards the figure and stumbled over a small stone. She stood up again and dusted off her knees, looked around but the person hadn't moved an inch.

Nymphadora walked slowly towards the bench, noticing as she did so, that the person wore wizards' robes. Dark brown, patched wizards' robes. And he had light brown hair, a part of which fell over his hands covering his face.

The last glow of the setting sun reflected off the wizards' head, creating two small golden dots in the girls' eyes, which were fixed upon his head.

Nymphadora was approaching slowly, not wanting to scare the stranger off, but wanting to give him time and the chance to back off if he wished.

But the man didn't budge.

The pink-haired girl stopped right before the man.

She observed him for a minute. Though she couldn't see his face, his body language told her that he was sad, maybe even desperate.

She reached a hand out to him, intending to touch his hands with hers.

But then she froze. Maybe he didn't want to be touched. She withdrew her hand and instead cleared her throat quietly.

"Excuse me," she began, her childs' voice high and clear. "May I take this seat?"

She waited for the stranger to react. He rose his head slowly and the girl held her breath.

He seemed quite young, just over twenty, with rich brown eyes, and he had fine lines around his eyes, too.

But most prominent were three matching scars running from beneath his right eye all the way down to his throat where they disappeared into the collar of his crumpled shirt.

His eyes were blood-shot.

But he smiled weakly, creating a funny tingling feeling in the girl's body.

"Go ahead," he croaked. He had a very nice, gentle voice, she thought as she sat down on the bench beside him. Though it seemed as though he was a bit hoarse.

The young man took several deep breaths – still hunched forward – and rubbed his eyes with his right sleeve.

Nymphadora studied him carefully. He seemed nice enough so she carefully sorted out the dozen questions he evoked in her and quickly chose the most pressing one.

"What makes you so sad?"

The stranger shot her a brief look and then he blinked and turned back and _really_ looked at her. He took in her bright pink hair and then his gaze locked on her big dark eyes.

The sun had disappeared, meanwhile, and Nymphadora had to strain her eyes to see his face.

The young man opened his left hand, revealing a merrily burning, light blue flame, which cast soft hues of purple on his face.

And probably hers, too, she thought.

"What makes you so sad?" the girl repeated in a whisper, easily holding his gaze.

He averted his eyes, looking reminiscently into the flame in his palm. His eyes clouded over with pain, making her hurt, too. For him.

"Tonight everyone is celebrating," he began slowly, "but I have lost my only friends last night."

Nymphadora's eyes drew together in sympathy.

"How did you lose them?" she whispered, somehow not daring to speak aloud.

The man closed his eyes for a moment, trying to hold back the hot tears that wanted to escape.

"Three of them died. One turned a traitor. He was sent to prison," he explained, equally quiet.

"To Azkaban?" Her eyes went wide.

The young man looked at her, searching her face, nodding slowly. He seemed to have come to a conclusion.

"You are a witch, aren't you?" he asked, now sounding a bit curious.

"Well, I guess, yes. But I can't do magic yet, I'm too young," she pouted briefly.

He smiled at her.

"How did you do that? With your hair right now?"

"What…?" Nymphadora stared at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. She slowly reached over her shoulder and pulled one of her plaits into her vision. Her hair was brown. A rich brown, almost the same shade as the man's eyes.

"Are you… are you a metamorphmagus?" he asked with interest.

"Oh. Yes." She looked rather guarded. "But I'm still earning to sontrol it. I can't do it for long, it always slips when I don't concentrate."

He listened with interest, she noted, not with the exhausting and painful scientologic necessity the healers at St. Mungo's always did. He seemed just as curious as she was.

"I… I'm Nymphadora Tonks, by the way," she introduced herself. "What's your name?"

"Remus. Remus Lupin."

"Where did you get those scars, Remus?"

Remus allowed himself a smile. He had never been able to resist answering a question. He loved to share his knowledge, and even a personal question like this he was tempted to answer.

It did have something to do with the girls' eyes.

"When I was five years old," he began, watching every inch of her face for signs of fear or repulsion, "I was bitten by a werewolf."

Nymphadora's eyes widened. Remus had expected her to scream and run, she was from a wizard's family, after all.

But the cute little girl just stared at him with curious, intelligent eyes, her feet dangling from the bench.

Endearing.

Pity he would never get the chance of being a father. It hurt. It made him think of Harry Potter. A lump raised and settled in his throat, new tears threatening his already blood-shot eyes.

Nymphadora's dace contorted into an expression of concern.

"Hey, don't cry," she said. "everything will be okay."

She felt rather stupid for saying something like this to a stranger who had just lost all his friends. But it was what her mother always told her whenever she cried.

She reached out and took his hand – the other one still held the blue flame – and squeezed, in what she hoped, an affectionate gesture.

Remus looked at his hand, and at the much smaller, pale, smooth fingers now curled around his.

He smiled softly, and, allowing himself a moment of selfishness, he squeezed the young witch's hand back.

* * *

Sixteen years later, two people sat on exactly that same bench.

The female had short, brown hair and wore crimson robes.

The man wore patched robes, his brown hair flecked with grey.

They were lost in a slow, meaningful kiss.

When they pulled apart, Remus looked down at his hand, and at the smaller pale, smooth one curled around his.

Nymphadora touched her forehead against his. She smiled at him, through her lashes, choking on tears, because she knew she was the reason for his happiness that made him look so much younger.

His eyes rose to hers, smiling back, rose a bit more and he suddenly captured her in another heart-stopping kiss.

This time she drew back after some time.

"What was that for?" she gasped, breathing hard, her heart pounding out of control, matching his.

"That, my love," he said, "was for the pink hair."

And sure enough, when she captured a lock of her hair between her fingers, she was it was finally back to the bubblegum pink she loved.

"That is all yours." She whispered reminiscently.

"Nymphadora," Remus called her in a low voice.

"Don't-" she was about to scold him for using her loathed first name, but one look into his eyes made her catch her breath and the words left her head altogether.

Remus looked at her with such a mixture of seriousness, determination and love, that he thought for a moment her heart would stop.

Nymphadora just stared back, blinking.

His next words took her completely off guard, but after approximately five seconds she gladly accepted and threw herself into his waiting arms.

His next word were:

"Nymphadora… marry me."

**End.**


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